


Anchored

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Celebrations, Exile, Food, M/M, ToT: Extra Treat, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-23 22:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Two years after the fall of the Temple, Chirrut decides to mark the occasion.Contemporary AU.





	Anchored

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Agapostemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/gifts).



Chirrut hated to admit it, but exile suited Baze. He had grown out his hair in thick waves that Baze confessed were starting to gray. His face had grown harder under his thick beard, but his voice was still capable of softness, still flashed with the same wry amusement that drew Chirrut to him, those many years ago.

Baze told people that Chirrut had been incorruptible before they met. It was a blatant, cheerful lie, but Chirrut sometimes wondered if things had been different--if the realities outside the Temple walls hadn't intruded, if they hadn't lost everything they had once been--if Chirrut would have fallen anyway. If one day he would have thrown his vows aside and instead embraced Baze.

It was irrelevant now, of course. He retained his faith--how could he not? But his vow to put the Temple before all other attachments was an empty one now, when the Temple no longer stood. Baze had lost his faith entirely, or so he claimed. Chirrut wondered, but didn't press. They had both been through enough. At least they'd found work. At least they had a place to live. At least--

He sighed. Enough of mourning the world that had been. Today was about the world that was.

He lit the candles on the table. Baze would be home soon enough, from the work that left him smelling of the machineries of death. Chirrut usually made him shower, but today--

The door opened. "You're early," Chirrut said, smoothly. It wouldn't do to act too startled, though he was relieved that he'd finished his preparations with time to spare.

"Not that early--" Baze stopped, his feet landing heavily on the hardwood floor. "Chirrut Îmwe," he said. "What is this?"

Chirrut smiled. "So I did surprise you," he said.

"It smells like home," Baze said.

The florist had special ordered the lilies, but the food had been all Chirrut's creation; their neighbor had let him use the stove yesterday to boil down broth, so nothing would tip Baze off. "We came here two years ago today," he said. "I thought it would be...good to commemorate the event."

"I said good riddance when we left," Baze said, gently. Chirrut could hear him taking his shoes off.

"You did," Chirrut said. "But where would we be now, if we hadn't lived there? I would never have met you. And if I hadn't lived with you, I might never have gotten used to you, and then where would we be? You'd be living alone, and no one would make you thenthuk."

"A tragedy," Baze said, his tone a little less certain than it had been. "I might go hungry."

"That wouldn't do," he said. "Would it?"

Baze crossed the room and moved close to him, close enough that Chirrut felt his breath when he next spoke. "An impossible life."

Chirrut put his head on one side. "You'd manage, I'm sure, but--"

"Don't even joke about that." Baze kissed him, wrapped his arms around Chirrut's waist. "I wouldn't. I won't. You--you did all this, for me."

"Don't get too carried away," Chirrut said. "I'm eating it, as well."

Baze laughed and kissed him again. "How did you get away with this? Did you take the day off work?"

"They let me out early," he confessed. "I told them it was our anniversary. It is, wouldn't you agree?"

"Happy anniversary, then," he said, passing a hand over Chirrut's head. "You need to shave."

"Too busy steaming the tingmo."

Baze kissed the side of his face. "You've thought of everything. My only regret is we'll have to eat first."

Chirrut couldn't help smiling. "First? You're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

"It's our anniversary," Baze said, a hand sliding down and resting at Chirrut's hip. "I have to give you _something_ for a gift, don't I?"

"You're gift enough," he said.

"Chirrut," he said. "Without you--I would be lost here. You know that, don't you?"

"So would I," Chirrut confessed. "You're my anchor."

"Thank you for this," he said. "It smells wonderful."

"We should eat before it gets cold," Chirrut said, but he stayed where he was for a little while, Baze's hand on his hip, the soft smell of the lilies heavy and sweet in the air.

"We should," Baze said. "You went to all this work."

"I hope it tastes all right."

Baze laughed. "If it doesn't, we'll just skip to dessert."

"An excellent suggestion."

**Author's Note:**

> The dishes and lilies are Tibetan, but in my head, at least, Baze and Chirrut are from somewhere slightly different (that doesn't actually exist in contemporary Earth). [The lilies are _Lilium souliei_ pictured at the top left.](http://botany.si.edu/tibet/photo_gallery.cfm?start=60)


End file.
